


A Valentine's Business Conference

by noxsoulmate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Meddling, Prompt Fic, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Witch Weekly, crazy pick-up tips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxsoulmate/pseuds/noxsoulmate
Summary: 129 crazy tips in an old issue of Witch Weekly - and Hermione had to pick this one. # 27: Get a part-time job in a convention bureau. It was stupid and irrational and did she already mention crazy? Never, ever would it help her get Draco’s attention, let alone have him fall for her. So how exactly did she end up here, at Draco Malfoy’s Valentine’s Ball. And as his date, nonetheless?





	A Valentine's Business Conference

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Strictly Dramione’s Valentine's Day Smut Fest 2019 and as the summary says, I picked prompt #27: Get a part-time job in a convention bureau.
> 
> I think I got a bit rusty with writing smut and it’s my first try on m/f smut, so I hope you’ll still like it :)
> 
> Happy Valentine’s day everybody <3

**_Strictly Dramione’s Valentine's Day Smut Fest 2019_ **

 

 

The clock read three minutes to midday.

With a strict hand, Hermione brushed at her skirt, making sure the imagined wrinkles were all gone. She tried to school her face but she knew she wasn’t successful, sure it showed her nervousness. It certainly fit her inner war much better than anything professional.

How could she have been so stupid?

The hand on the clock ticked forward. Two minutes left.

It had started in such a funny way. A warm afternoon just last summer. They all had promised to give Molly a hand in tidying out the Burrow. Why Ginny and Hermione had picked the attic, she couldn’t even remember anymore. Something about finding hidden secrets and treasures.

She should have offered to degnome the garden instead.

Just one minute left and Hermione tried to breathe in and out, closing her eyes to push away the memories. However it happened, this was now her job, and he was her client.

The fire in her office’s fireplace roared green right as the hand struck midday, letting the butterflies in her tummy soar high as the one man who had gotten her into all of this came into view.

With a smile, she tried to hide her nerves. “Hello, Draco. How is your day so far?”

“It’s hectic but alright.”

“Well, then. Let’s not waste more of your time, since we don’t have much of it. I’m hopeful: I have three more places for us to check out today.”

“Lead the way”, he replied with a smile, holding out his arm to sidealong apparate.

Just like the last times, he was closer to her when they reached their destination than when they had left, and fire pulsed through her veins. Just like the last times, he did not seem to be in a rush to take a step back.

In an attempt to stay professional, Hermione stepped around him, directly to the opposite wall where windows gave way to a view over a rainy landscape.

“This hotel has all the points on your list. It is big enough to house the number of guests you have invited, the kitchen is well known for its exquisite menu, and there is a spa and fitness room in the basement.”

“I don’t know,” Draco said, his calculating voice reflecting the businessman he had become over the past ten years or so. His eyes searched the place as if there was something amiss he had to put his finger on.

Hermione looked at him for just a moment, admiring how the light from the chandelier of the ballroom reflected in his eyes. When said dark grey focused on her, she cleared her throat.

“You don’t like it?”

“The ballroom doesn’t seem big enough.”

“For a conference?”

“No,” he replied, chuckling. “For the Valentine’s ball at the end of the conference.”

With that, he simply held out his arm again. Hermione didn’t argue. Not much time was left until the event, so they had to hurry to find a place that would please Draco.

When they arrived at their destination, she once more pondered over this situation and the weird ways she had gotten into it. Had someone told her in her youth that one day, she would be working at a convention bureau, specializing in finding fitting event locations for wizards all over Great Britain – well, she might have been able to believe that. But had that someone also told her that she’d only taken this part-time job because of an article in an old issue of Witch Weekly, a deal with her crazy friend, and because of this man she was now showing different hotels to – she would have laughed outright. Had that person gone so far as to tell her that the reason for all of it was her infatuation with this man – yeah, she would most likely have hexed whoever said it.

And yet, it was undeniably true.

The second location was old, yet remarkably renovated, and it piqued Draco’s interest as Hermione had known it would. Over the past three days, she had gotten a pretty good feeling for what he was looking for. While he inspected the ballroom more closely, Hermione admired the landscape. The rolling hills reminded her of the view from the Burrow’s upper windows.

Like the one she had in the attic, the place where all this began …

 

… Six months earlier …

 

“I don’t see how your mother thought we could do all this on just one weekend”, Hermione huffed, letting herself fall into one of the old bean bags they had found and dusted off. Ginny grunted and let herself fall into the neon pink one right next to her. While they caught their breath, Hermione let her eyes wander over what they had managed so far. It … wasn’t much to be honest. The ghoul had finally “left” a few years ago but the remaining mess was still visible in at least a third of the attic. The two women had ignored that part for now. They’d already gotten some old rugs out, letting them air in the backyard. Some boxes with old books were now downstairs in the living room, for Arthur and Molly to go through and see what they wanted to keep. They’d also found a box with old baby clothes and after deeming them still nice enough, they had labelled them for George to take home to his pregnant wife.

It had gotten both of them thinking, but just for a moment. They had both become mothers at a very young age, just years after the war and their education had ended. In just a few days, their youngest children, Lily Luna and Hugo, would follow their older siblings to Hogwarts. And Hermione and Ginny were both young enough to have more. But for Ginny, three kids were more than enough and Hermione … well, a few years ago, she and Ron had finally admitted that they didn’t work as a couple. They were still friends and he was still a wonderful father to their kids. But that was all there would ever be between them. For the moment, it seemed the topic of babies was off the table for both of them. Hence why George got the box with baby clothes.

Despite a few moved boxes and rugs and the cleaned-up bean bags, the attic seemed as if they hadn’t done anything at all so far. Sighing deeply, Ginny pulled another box over, opening it while still sitting down. Hermione followed suit.

“Looks like these can go downstairs as well for your mom to check. Just old magazines”, Hermione judged after a moment.

“Same here”, Ginny replied, pulling something into her lap. “Oh, look at this. A Witch Weekly from 1958.”

“1958? Isn’t that a bit old even for your mom? Did she already read that with – what? Nine years?”

“Maybe it’s from one of my grandmas. Merlin’s beard, we do have a lot of junk up here.”

Nevertheless, Ginny opened the issue, letting the pages flip through her fingers. Hermione didn’t pay her any mind until her friend suddenly squealed.

“Oh my God, look at this: 129 Ways to Get a Husband. You think either of my grandmas used this?”

“You mean in 1958? After your parents were born?”

“Oh, right”, Ginny replied absently, obviously interested in what Witch Weekly had to say. That was, until her head snapped up, eyes wide. “You don’t think Mom used this, do you?”

“Ginny, check the box again. There are hundreds if not thousands of Witch Weekly issues. Obviously, someone loved to collect them and wasn’t able to separate with them. Why would this be the one your mom used to woo a man?”

“True.”

Thinking the topic to be over, Hermione went back to her own box. After a minute or so, she heard Ginny chuckle. When she looked over, her friend was still reading that nonsense.

“Gin, really?”

“These are actually really funny. Okay, mostly because they’re stupid and I can’t believe any of this would ever work. But still.”

“Share with me then”, Hermione gave in, knowing her friend wouldn’t let it rest otherwise.

Going back a page, Ginny cleared her throat as if she was about to give a speech at a war memorial gala. “Sit on a park bench and feed the pigeons.”

“What?” Hermione burst out laughing, reaching for the magazine. “Never.” But there it was, black on white. “That is insane.”

“Or this: have your car break down in strategic places.”

“And do what? Play the dumb, helpless girl so he can save you?”

“Well, this is from the 1950s.”

“It’s sexist and archaic, that’s what it is.”

“Yeah, but also downright hilarious, don’t you think?”

“If you say so.”

“I wonder if this would still work in modern days …”

That really got Hermione laughing.

If asked later, she really couldn’t tell what happened afterwards or over the course of the next two hours. But somehow, Ginny had gotten a mischievous glint in her eyes and before Hermione knew it, her friend had a crazy idea.

Because Hermione was now single.

And because she had a crush no one but Ginny knew about.

“You never plan on doing anything about it anyway. Not for real at least. So why would it hurt to try this? Just for fun?”

To be quite honest, there had not been one good argument that justified what had happened at the end of the day. Hermione blamed it on Ginny’s persistent annoyance when following a goal. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, so in the end … Hermione had simply caved.

And since 27 was her lucky number, that’s the number she told Ginny when asked to pick one.

Never in a million years could she have known how life-altering her decision that summer afternoon in a dimly-lit attic would be.

 

_Get a part-time job in a convention bureau._

 

Ginny was visibly bummed, but no begging on her part got Hermione to pick another number. A deal was a deal – just one number. And since they both knew she couldn’t just take on a completely new job on a whim, the topic was obviously off the table.

 

… until a few nights later when Hermione wasn’t able to fall asleep, thinking about grey eyes again …

… and the next morning, when her shift at the bookstore was running slow, research material right around the corner …

… there really still were convention bureaus in the wizarding world today, who would have thought …

… Businessman Draco Malfoy, CEO of Malfoy Inc., was listed as one of their recurring clients, being quoted as “very happy about the professional and quick work ethic” …

… there actually was a part-time position open, would you look at that …

… field of duties would be to travel the country, scouting out new locations for wizards to hold various celebrations without muggles noticing …

… why wouldn’t her brain shut up, reminding her that she had always complained to Ron that they weren’t traveling enough, never seeing new places …

… telling her that she now had enough free time, both Rose and Hugo attending Hogwarts and the job at the bookstore just something to occupy her time …

… she was only turning 35 in a few weeks, for Heaven’s sake – she had her whole life still ahead of her – she was allowed to do something crazy …

 

Three days later, she had sent her application.

 

~*~

 

That’s how she had ended up here, at a beautiful hotel, showing Draco Malfoy different locations for his important business shenanigans. Who would have thought?

She’d actually spilled her coffee over her blouse when she’d seen him enter the bureau on a cold Friday in February, unable to forget that stupid article. It wasn’t as if she’d known he was a regular client, no, of course not.

Thankfully, she’d been able to evanesco every last trace of coffee just before he’d entered her office, surprised to see her there. Over the past few years, they had become acquaintances, if not friends, even though she couldn’t pinpoint how and when it had happened. Now he was hiring her for this very important job: a location for a big conference, Thursday to Saturday, ending right on Valentine’s Day itself.

It was all pretty short notice, the original location cancelling days before the event. And still, Draco was extremely picky, seemingly having no problem traveling to many different places with her to find the perfect location. They’d checked three locations on Saturday already, then three on Monday, and now, on Tuesday, another three. If he wasn’t going to pick one today, she wasn’t only running out of options, they were also running out of time.

Thankfully, this second-to-last location seemed to be to his liking. That was, until she heard his quick footsteps and looked up, only to see his eyes darkened, his lips in a thin line.

“Let’s go. This isn’t it.”

“What’s wrong? I thought –”

“Granger, let’s just go. I’m not bringing my business to a place like this.”

Irritated, Hermione caught sight of a balding man over Draco’s shoulder. He was not the person she had corresponded with but could be the owner. She sent him an apologetic smile but all she got was a sneer. Confused, she took Draco’s arm and apparated them to the next location.

This time when they landed too close to each other, she didn’t rush to step away. Instead, she took the moment he used to collect himself to look at him. He had changed over the last fifteen years, as one would expect, but only for the better. Life really wasn’t fair, having some men age like a fine whiskey: the older they got, the better they became. Then again, life hadn’t been fair to him either. A few years back, he had lost his wife. Hermione had seen him during the funeral. She had felt for him, witnessing how he was comforting his son when it had been so clear in his every move that he was the one who needed consoling.

She didn’t have long to ponder over it, his eyes opening soon enough. They were still a tad stormy, yet the rest of his face was warm again. “You should scratch that location from your list,” he told her, his voice warm like honey. His breath was ghosting over her hair. “I’d hate for you to have to deal with that man ever again.”

“If he said something about you, I apologize.”

“It wasn’t me he had a problem with.”

Staring at him, it took her but a few seconds to realize – muggleborns. That man had an issue with muggleborns.

“Well, what a pity. I liked that place.”

When he squeezed her arm just before letting go, Hermione realized she must have sounded more bitter than she had intended.

Their bad mood faded away the moment they took in the room for the first time.

“Wow, Hermione. Keeping the best for last, it seems?”

His words briefly got her attention before the view stole it away for good.

The two outer walls of the ballroom were made of floor-to-ceiling windows and gave a splendid view on the rolling mountains and the rough sea at their bottom. The room itself looked like what Hermione imagined a Disney Prince’s castle should be.

It was perfect.

Before they could say more, the owner stepped up to them, a smile lighting up his whole face. He was a muggle with a muggleborn son and therefore accustomed with the wizarding world.

She let Draco do the talking and was happy to see that it didn’t even take five minutes until it was decided. Finally, Draco had found a venue for his corporate meeting-slash-Valentine’s event. They talked details, Draco explaining that his team would stop by tomorrow to prepare everything, and then signed the contract.

Once they were done and had said their goodbyes, Hermione held out her hand so they could apparate back together. However, Draco seemed to have other plans.

“It’s lunchtime. Why not sample the restaurant?”

“You already signed the contract,” Hermione responded, afraid she’d missed something.

Draco smiled at her and shook his head. “Relax. This isn’t a test. I was inviting you to lunch.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied, baffled. She hesitantly agreed with a simple “okay” and off they were. The view here was similarly spectacular as the one from the ballroom. The restaurant had an open veranda that seemed to hang over the ocean itself.

Over lunch, the conversation between them ran smoothly, easily. They laughed a lot, talked about their children who, surprisingly, had become quite close friends. Draco was open enough to explain that it was probably because his son hadn’t grown up with the same stick up his arse than he had. Hermione didn’t say no.

When lunch was over and they had apparated back, she was saddened. And it certainly wasn’t because of the great food, or the view she had left behind. She had a feeling Draco wasn’t quite willing to leave just yet, either, though she was most likely imagining it.

Back in her office, he leaned against her table rather than make his excuses and leave.

It seemed he found a new topic whenever there was a lull in their conversation. Until he stirred the conversation to a topic Hermione had not expected.

“What are you doing this Saturday?”

“Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, really. Maybe watching a good movie. Why?”

“Would you like to accompany me to the ball?”

Her head snapped up, looking at him. “Your company’s ball?”

“Yes.”

“But … I’m not part of your company.”

“You helped us find the venue. Besides, hardly any of my employees’ partners work in my company.”

“But … I’m not your … partner.”

“Granger,” Draco groaned, shaking his head with a little smile. “Could you please stop making it so hard on me?”

“I don’t –”

“I’m actually asking you out on a date here.”

Hermione gaped at him. “On Valentine’s Day?”

“Well, now that you say it like that, I guess it wasn’t the best idea.” He got up, turning towards the door. She was sure she had seen a pink tinge on his cheeks. “How about we just forget about it. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Draco, wait,” Hermione called out, before she could think about what she was doing. Once he turned back to her, she threw caution to the wind and gave him a little smile. “When and where should I meet you?”

 

~*~

 

She’d been to many balls before, but this one, admittedly, topped it all. She couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was. The location maybe, or the music, or even the guests. Most likely, it was Draco. They danced, they talked, they laughed. They even posed for a quick picture and Hermione rolled her eyes when she thought about the article that would be in the Prophet tomorrow.

However, it all faded into nothing when they found themselves on the balcony.

“What a wonderful night,” she sighed contentedly, leaning on the railing. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Of course,” he replied, stepping up close to her. “It wouldn’t have been the same without you here.”

The butterflies that had been there all evening soared even higher when she looked up at him. Either his intense gaze or the clear, cold night made her shiver.

“Oh, wait. Here.” Draco shrugged out of his jacket and put it over her shoulders. They’d been close all evening, but there had always been someone else there. Now, however, they were alone, their laughter still on their lips, the champagne already going to their heads. Any of this could be the reason why Hermione gave in as Draco used the lapels of his own jacket to pull them closer together, oh so slowly. She could feel his body heat, his warm breath. His eyes shone, reflecting the light of the torches on the balcony as they traced her face. The music from inside faded to the background.

When their lips touched for the first time, softly, hesitantly, Hermione shivered, leaning into his warmth that was like a siren's call. A small moan left him and the kiss deepened, her hand balling into the front of his dress shirt.

When the kiss ended they stayed close, breathing in the same air, their gazes connected. Hermione was sure Draco could read the same wonderment and questions in her eyes as she did in his.

This time, she was the one being bold, stepping even closer, her hands wandering over his shoulders, sinking into the fine hair at the nape of his neck. She could see his eyes flicker, a flame burning, just before she closed the gap again. Their kiss was heated and when his hands wandered under his jacket to her bare back, she didn’t resist as he pulled her flush against him. She let out a small gasp, too many sensations all at once. His hands on her back, his body against hers. The feeling of his erection. How long had she wanted him? Too long. How long had it been that a man’s touch had set her on fire like this? Way too long. Or maybe she hadn’t ever experienced it before. Whatever it was, she wanted him. Now.

She moved her hips, pressing against his erection intentionally, hoping he would get the message. Draco groaned and even softly shuddered. Their kiss ended only long enough for him to pull her even closer. She felt the familiar pull of apparition and a moment later, they were in a room that was lit only by moonlight. Not that she paid much attention to it, letting Draco steer her in a direction he deemed fit. She guessed it was his hotel room, but all thoughts about it went flying out of her head as he pushed his jacket off her shoulders. She took it as invitation to start on the buttons of his dress shirt.

When her legs hit against something soft – the bed, her hazy brain supplied – she almost tripped, but he held her upright. His lips left hers, to follow a trail down her throat and up to her neck, to the sweet spot just under her ear and back down to where her neck met her shoulder. He took his time, leaving a trail of fire behind that had Hermione moaning softly. Still, her fingers were working deftly on his buttons, and soon enough, she had his shirt open. He helped her get him out of it, but his hands returned to her right away. He pulled her closer, catching her lips again for a deep kiss. It didn’t last long and when his lips were back on her shoulder, she sensed his hands, slowly pulling away the fabric of her dress. His lips followed the movement, having Hermione lean in to him and throwing her head back. A moment later the fabric left her shoulders, and her dress flowed away, dropping to the floor.

His kisses ended and even in what little light they had, Hermione could see the lust in his eyes when he saw her green lacy bra and knickers. He closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple moving harshly as he swallowed. Catching her off guard, Draco picked her up, getting a small squeak out of her. Softly, he placed her on the bed, letting his hands and eyes trail down her body. When he reached her feet, he got her out of her strapped heels, then made quick work of his own shoes, socks, and trousers.

Hermione wanted to touch, but he was too far away still, so she closed her eyes to calm herself. His lips were fire on her skin as he started kissing her legs, moving upwards an an agonizingly slow pace. The room was quiet except for the rustle of the bedding and the faint music and laughter from the party, so her moans sounded loud. When he reached her inner thigh her hands found their way into his hair without any command. Her brain was currently on vacation, which was probably good. She didn’t want to think, just feel.

The first soft touch of his lips over the lace covering her had her hips buck up ever so slightly. Just enough to chase the feeling. She heard a soft chuckle, but before she could comment, the lips were back on her and all words turned into a groan. His hands wandered further up her body, soon followed by his lips. Just shy of her breast they left her skin, only to catch her lips in a searing kiss. Her body was on fire the moment he lowered himself and she could feel the heat of his body, covering her, surrounding her. His arms were on either side of her head, bracketing it. She let go of his hair, winding her arms around him, her hands trying to touch as much skin as she could. She wanted to feel him, have him even closer. She moved her legs just so and thankfully, Draco took the hint, lowering himself completely. When his erection touched her, she had to break the kiss, the moan coming from deep inside of her. His hand on her breast, playing with the nipple through the lace, didn’t make it easier for her to get back any control over herself.

And maybe she didn’t want to.

She let go completely, stopped thinking about every move they made or where his hands and lips where. Because soon enough it was as if they were everywhere.

His lips on her nipples, her neck, her own lips, her navel, her clit.

His hands leaving hot trails all over, softly pulling away her knickers, pushing away her bra, entering her.

All sense of time and place had long left her when she was close to her first orgasm. It never took her much to reach that first one and it usually wasn’t that world shattering. Just a small one to warm up. As he got her tumbling over the top just with his fingers inside of her, his thumb playing lightly with her clit, he kissed her deeply, swallowing the moans of her pleasure.

She needed but a few seconds to recover, her hands finally making their way down his back and pulling away his shorts. He helped her get rid of it, doing the same with her bra and knickers. When he was back over her, his face hovered over hers. The moonlight was dancing in his eyes, a smile on his lips. Hermione caught him in a kiss, softer this time, some of the rush of the beginning gone. He was still holding up his hips over hers, but she was having none of that. Her hand found his erection and this time it was him who had to break the kiss in a moan. He was hard and Hermione treasured the feeling of having him in her hand, giving him a few strokes.

Their lips found each other again as he slowly lowered himself on her. She moved her hips and held on to his shoulders when she could feel him at her entrance. Once he was inside, her other hand left his erection and she wound her arms around him, holding him tight. With a few steady, precise moves, he had her filled up, his lips back on her neck. He was breathing heavily and his stubble was tickling her. Her senses were in overdrive, intensified when he started moving again. They didn’t stay like this for long, his strong hands holding her as he rolled to the side and on his back, having her on top of him. She took the hint and leaned up, bringing her legs in a better position. His hands were wandering all over her body once more, paying extra attention to her breasts and her clit. Hermione took in the sensation, her eyes closed, her head thrown back, her hips slowly moving. They got faster in the rhythm of Draco’s hands wandering over her body, as if he was playing her like an instrument, working up to the crescendo.

When she reached it, she had to still for a moment, her whole body frozen, even the soft groan on her lips. Her body was hot and cold all at once as the sensation washed over her. When it ebbed away, she wasn’t sure how she was holding her body upright. She needn’t wonder long, as Draco’s arms wrapped around her, bringing her back on the soft mattress. His warmth engulfed her once more, his upper body glued to her as he only moved his hips. Two, three more strokes and he stilled, a soft huff leaving his lips before he pressed them to her pulse point.

All she was able to do in her sated state was to wind her arms around him, holding him close, while they were both catching their breath.

She was sure they’d fallen asleep for a few short minutes but after a while, Draco moved. Barely enough to pull out and roll off her and to her side. Hermione used wandless magic to clean them both of anything sticky as Draco pulled up the blankets. While her body had been on fire just a moment before, she was now glad when he pulled her into his warmth, the blanket covering them from the world outside. She snuggled up to him, her brain too hazy to think of anything, let alone the meaning of this or what the future would hold.

As she drifted off to sleep, a kiss was pressed to her messy hair and his lips found their way to her ear, his breath warm as he whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Hermione.”


End file.
